#please someone help me with my characters

[thebarneschronicles]

Closer to Home

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: As you settle into your new role as the team’s “girl in the chair,” helping Sam and Bucky with their missions, you find yourself increasingly drawn to Bucky's intense presence. His brooding silence is matched only by his watchful eyes, and despite his gruff exterior, your kindness begins to chip away at his walls. When Bucky insists on walking you home one night, clyou chalk it up to his old-fashioned sense of duty and think nothing of it. But as the night unfolds, you realize there’s far more behind his actions than just good manners, and your growing feelings for him may not be as hidden as you think.

A/N: This was supposed to be something else ENTIRELY. But it just unravelled and here we are! Please, feel free to let me know your thoughts about it! B xx

--

Your relationship with Bucky hadn’t started with fireworks or dramatic confessions—it began like any other normal relationship: after drinks and a movie.

It was a quiet evening, the kind that felt heavier after long hours at your desk. You were finally wrapping up for the night, shrugging on your coat and slinging your purse over a shoulder. The clock had just ticked past 10 p.m., though it hardly felt late to you. Still, your shoulders sagged under the tension of the day—hours spent poring over intel, trying to uncover scraps of information that might help Sam and Bucky on their next mission.

“You shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You looked up to find Bucky leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed. His voice was gruff but not unkind, his blue eyes shadowed but steady.

“It’s just a few blocks,” you replied, already bracing for the argument.

His jaw tightened—a subtle shift, but one you’d come to recognize as the start of his infamous stubborn streak. “Doesn’t matter. My ma would haunt me if I let you.”

That earned him a laugh. “Your 'ma' sounds like quite the character.”

“She was,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “C’mon, grab your stuff. I’ll walk you.”

You didn’t argue further, mostly because you were too tired to win, and partly because there was something oddly comforting about his protectiveness, even if it came wrapped in brooding silences and sharp glances.

Being around Bucky had taken some getting used to. You knew about him, of course—who didn’t? But nothing had prepared you for the sheer intensity of James Buchanan Barnes up close. His unrelenting stares, his quiet presence that somehow filled a room, and the way he seemed to carry the weight of entire worlds on his shoulders.

When you’d first joined their team as the “girl in the chair” (a term Sam insisted on despite your repeated protests that you were, in fact, a woman), you hadn’t known what to expect. Your days as a research journalist had been left behind in favor of a role that felt more like a sidekick to two superheroes. Never the hero, always the support.

“It’s not nothing, though,” Sam had told you once, catching you mid-eye-roll during a particularly grueling debrief. “You’re saving lives too, y’know. Every name, every address you dig up? That’s someone else’s tomorrow you’re protecting.”

Still, the job came with its own toll: exhaustion, migraines, and a constant ache in your wrists from hours of typing. But it also came with a quiet sense of purpose—and Bucky’s occasional company.

At first, his silences had been intimidating, his brooding presence almost oppressive. But you met him with unwavering kindness—bringing him coffee when he looked like he needed it, or letting him retreat into your office to escape Sam’s chatter. Slowly, the silences grew shorter, and the stares softened into something more watchful.

Now, walking beside him under the soft glow of streetlights, the quiet felt less like distance and more like understanding.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence, “is this a one-time chivalry thing, or do I get an official escort service from now on?”

Bucky snorted. “You’re assuming I’m doing this for you.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, grinning. “Who else is benefitting from my safe arrival home?”

He glanced at you, a spark of humor flickering in his eyes. “Sam’ll never let me hear the end of it if something happens to you. Man loves his lectures.”

“Ah,” you said, mock-serious. “So I’m saving you from Sam’s wrath. Got it.”

He didn’t answer right away, but his pace slowed slightly, his hand brushing the base of your spine as you turned a corner, like he was directing towards home. “Maybe I just like making sure you’re okay,” he muttered.

Your heart stuttered at his words, a quiet ache blooming in your chest, but you didn’t dare press him further. Hope was a dangerous thing, a fragile spark that had burned you one too many times before. It was safer to tuck it away, to pretend his words meant nothing more than what he’d said—a simple gesture of kindness, nothing deeper.

You were friends, after all... right? Or at least, friendly. He was kind to you, yes, but Bucky Barnes was kind in a way that felt carefully measured, like a soldier fulfilling his duty. He was a gentleman through and through, the kind who’d been raised to believe it was his responsibility to make sure no lady faced the dangers of the night alone.

“His mah would’ve expected nothing less,” you thought wryly, your lips tugging into a faint smile.

He was a man out of time, after all. Decades removed from the era he was born into, yet somehow still anchored there, even now. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rules he followed were the same ones ingrained into him all those years ago. And maybe, just maybe, it was easier to believe that than to let yourself hope he cared for any reason beyond habit or honor.

“Almost there,” he said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. His hand hovered near your elbow, steady and sure, as if ready to catch you should you stumble.

The steps to your door loomed far too quickly for your aching heart, bringing an abrupt end to your time with the brooding soldier. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if your body was reluctant to leave his quiet, steady presence.

You paused on the final step, its height almost eliminating the difference between you and Bucky. It gave you just enough courage to look up at him, your fingers nervously twisting around the strap of your purse.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He dipped his head in a single nod, his icy blue eyes flickering down to meet yours. His expression, as always, was unreadable, cast in shadows under the dim streetlamp. “Anytime.”

The simplicity of his reply made your chest tighten. You nodded in return, swallowing hard as your heart hammered in your throat. Turning away from him, you fixed your gaze on your front door, willing yourself to move forward, to end the moment before it unraveled you completely.

Friends. That’s all this was. It had to be.

So why did it feel so wrong to turn your back on him? Why did it feel like you were forcing yourself to betray something deeper, something unspoken, simply by walking away?

Your hand was on the doorknob before you realized you’d stopped moving, the quiet war between your heart and your mind reaching a fever pitch. You squeezed your eyes shut, battling the urge that rose in you like a wave.

Don’t do it. Just go inside. Let him leave.

But the battle was already lost. Before you could stop yourself—before logic could wrestle control away from the reckless beating of your heart—you turned. Your feet moved without permission, carrying you back down the steps toward him.

It wasn’t a decision so much as a pull, steady and undeniable, the words slipping from your lips as if carried on a tide of longing you couldn’t resist.

“Would you like to come up for a drink?”

The words tumbled out unbidden, your voice trembling just enough to betray how desperately you wanted him to say yes.

His reaction couldn’t have been more Bucky if he tried. His eyes shifted, and you swore you could see every emotion flash through them—surprise, hesitation, something a lot like longing—before they settled back into the stoic mask he always wore. Quiet. Unimpressed. Broody. And yet…

“I wouldn’t mind a beer.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, shaky with relief, and you motioned toward your door. “Well, come on then. I’ve got a six-pack that’s been waiting for some company.”

His presence filled the small apartment in a way that made your breath catch, the air somehow heavier, more electric. How many times had your silly, stubborn heart conjured up this exact scenario? Late at night, Bucky standing just inside your door, peeling off his worn leather jacket and tugging off the gloves that shielded both metal and flesh. Then, as if he’d done it a thousand times, he’d settle into a corner of your couch, legs spread, shoulders sinking back into the soft fabric like he belonged there.

“There's Heineken, Bud, and Corona,” you said, your voice only slightly betraying your nerves as you toed off your shoes and dropped your keys and purse by the door. “I think I might even have some whiskey stashed away somewhere. What’s your poison?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze trailing lazily around the room before settling back on you. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, biting back the grin threatening to stretch across your face. “Sure thing,” you said casually, though you were certain the flush creeping up your neck gave you away.

You turned toward the kitchen, your heart doing an embarrassing little leap as you busied yourself rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. The clink of bottles felt absurdly loud in the quiet apartment, every moment stretching with the weight of his presence just beyond your line of sight.

“Nice place,” he called from the living room, his tone casual but laced with something warmer.

“Thanks,” you replied, grabbing two beers and popping the caps off with practiced ease. “I’d say make yourself at home, but it looks like you’ve already got that covered.”

When you re-entered the room, there he was—exactly as you’d imagined so many times before. His jacket was draped over the back of the couch, his gloves neatly set beside it, and Bucky himself sprawled out comfortably. His metal hand rested casually on his knee, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes met yours.

“Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” you said, forcing a steady smile as you handed him the green bottle.

“To your first visit,” you began, raising your own bottle in a toast. You couldn’t help the way your gaze lingered, taking in the sight of his broad frame on your couch, the casual way he sat, the sheer presence of him filling the space. Warmth pooled low in your belly, and before you could stop yourself, you added, “May it be the first of many.”

His smirk deepened at that, a flicker of amusement flashing across his features. He raised his bottle silently, going for a sip—but you stopped him, your hand darting out to rest on his.

“Wait!” you blurted, your palm lightly pressing against his larger one.

His frown was slight, his gaze shifting between your hands before settling on your face. “Why?”

“You have to look at me when we cheers,” you explained, your voice a little breathless, a little unsure of what you were doing but too far in to back out now.

His brow arched. “And why’s that?”

“Bad luck if you don’t. Years of it.” You shrugged, suddenly feeling the ridiculousness of your own words but refusing to back down. “I mean, I can’t even count how many years... Probably best not to risk it.”

For a second, you thought he might argue. But then he chuckled, a soft sound that sent a flutter straight to your chest. “God knows I’ve had enough of that already, haven’t I?”

You giggled, your laughter bubbling out, light and carefree. The fact that he played along felt like a victory, a small but monumental crack in his stoic armor.

With a glint of something softer in his eyes, he tilted his head toward you, his gaze locking with yours. “Alright, doll,” he said, his voice quieter now, warmer. “Let’s do it properly.”

Eyes steady on yours, he clinked his bottle against yours, the sound sharp and satisfying in the quiet room. And then, he didn’t look away—not for a second—as he took a slow sip.

You followed suit, the contact between your eyes and his making your heart race so fast you thought it might burst. The heat in his gaze was steady, grounding, and yet it sent a thrilling, electric charge through you that made your knees nearly buckle.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low, the faintest curve to his lips as he lowered his bottle.

“Much,” you replied, somehow managing to keep your voice steady, even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

The air between you seemed to shift then, heavier but no less comforting—a new tension that simmered beneath the surface. If Bucky noticed the way your gaze lingered on him, the way your breath hitched every time his hand grazed your knee as he reached for another beer, he never said a thing.

He was the perfect gentleman, as always. Even when you slid closer on the couch, settling beside him on the plush cushions - even though there were a whole three other seats available to you. Even when you turned toward him, resting your head on your palm, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his face while you rambled about the mission reports piling up on your desk. He didn’t even glance at your neckline when you leaned over him to grab the remote, though you couldn’t help but steal a quiet inhale of his scent—clean, warm, unmistakably him.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the quiet. “I feel like I’m torturing you by making you listen to all this. Do you feel like watching something?” Your tone was cheery, light, but your heart raced at the thought of sharing something as simple and intimate as watching a film together.

With your eyes fixed on the TV, you missed the brief hesitation in his expression—the flicker of doubt that crossed his face and quickly vanished. Yet, neither the guilt, the fear, nor the pain that lingered in his soul seemed strong enough to stop him from embracing what you offered so openly: a chance to simply be. For the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky seemed just a little less burdened by the shadows of his past, a ghost of his old self and a lot of his new one urging him to give in.

“What’s on Netflix?” he asked, his voice low and casual.

Your head whipped around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “How do you know what Netflix is?”

His lips quirked into a rare, genuinely amused smile, the kind that made your stomach flip. “I’m old, but I’m not that old, doll.”

“You’re 106,” you shot back, arching a brow.

“And yet, I still know what streaming is,” he countered, the smile growing. “I’m not living under a rock.”

“Well, I am impressed, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, settling back into the cushions. “What else do you know about modern technology? Please tell me you’ve at least heard of TikTok.”

His expression shifted into something closer to a scowl, but the playful glint in his eye betrayed him. “I know about TikTok,” he said, sounding almost offended. “And dating apps. God, the horrors,” he added, shaking his head dramatically as he glanced at his phone like it was some sort of ancient relic.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine, filling the cozy space between you. But beneath the humor, your stomach twisted with an unexpected knot. Dating apps?

“What about dating apps?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but the curiosity in your voice was hard to hide.

Bucky groaned, slouching deeper into the couch as though the thought of them physically pained him. “I don’t know, doll. They just seem... unnatural. All these profiles and swiping left or right, like you’re picking a product instead of a person. Not my thing.” His voice held a certain distaste, and the casual way he said it made you wonder if he was speaking from experience—or just his own strong sense of principle.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the questions bubbling up inside you. Had he ever used them? Was he speaking from personal experience, or just from watching the chaos unfold around him? Your thoughts shifted uncomfortably, and you tried to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

“I get it,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s... kind of weird, honestly. It’s like shopping for a date, but with less... quality control.” You shot him a teasing grin, but the tightness in your chest was hard to ignore.

Bucky chuckled, the sound a low rumble that was soothing, even though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Exactly. I mean, if I’m gonna meet someone, I’d rather it be... I don’t know, real? Not behind a screen.”

For some reason, his comment made your heart stumble, a traitorous beat skipping out of rhythm. You quickly dropped your gaze to your beer, hoping the reaction wasn’t written all over your face. Was he hinting that he preferred real, in-person connections? That he’d rather... meet someone like that?

You cleared your throat, feigning casual interest to mask the swarm of uncertainty rising inside. “So, how would you go about it? Finding a date, I mean. Is Sam your wingman?”

Bucky nearly choked on his beer, shaking his head vehemently. “God, no! Can you imagine? He’s too busy being Captain America to care about my love life... except when he’s accusing me of flirting with his sister.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, and your chest tightened with something sharp and unwelcome. Jealousy. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to chase it away. “I didn’t know you liked Sarah,” you said, and to your horror, the disappointment in your voice was impossible to hide.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the shift in your tone. “She’s great,” he said with a thoughtful nod. Then his lips curved knowingly. “But not like that.”

The heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks was impossible to ignore, and Bucky’s sly grin told you he’d noticed. Your relief collided with your curiosity, the two tangling into a dangerous need to know more. “Oh,” you started hesitantly. “So... if not her, then who?”

He took another sip of his beer, the pause deliberate. “Had one date with the waitress from that Asian place we always order from. It… didn’t go well.”

Your brows furrowed. “And you haven’t tried again since then?”

“Not really.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, the movement deceptively casual. “You know how it is these days—apps, algorithms, everyone judging you by a couple of photos and a bio. And who’s lining up to date a former assassin, huh? People know too much, too soon. Real connections don’t happen that way.”

The self-deprecating edge in his voice made your heart ache. You tilted your head, studying the way his vibranium fingers tapped lightly against the beer bottle. “Maybe,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the nervous thrum beneath your skin, “you’re looking in the wrong places.”

His gaze snapped to yours, sharp and searching. “Oh yeah?” he asked, voice low, almost daring. “And where do you think I should look?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question, his attention. “Maybe a little closer to home,” you murmured, eyes resolutely fixed on the beer bottle in your own hands.

The silence that followed was electric, charged with unspoken possibilities that hung in the air like static. His gaze lingered on you, steady and intense, and you could feel it even without looking up. It made your pulse race in a way you didn’t dare acknowledge.

The truth was, you weren’t sure if you were just caught up in the moment—or if there was something more lingering in his words, in the way he was looking at you now.

You wanted to ask. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. But a part of you hesitated, afraid of the answer. What if this was nothing more than friendly banter? What if pushing further shattered the comfortable connection you’d built?

“Closer to home, huh?” Bucky’s voice was a low rumble, breaking the silence but not the tension. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, and for a moment, it felt like he was closing the space between you. “And what does that mean, exactly? You got someone in mind for me, doll?”

There it was—that nickname. The one you pretended to hate but secretly adored. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the corner of your mouth twitch, betraying the smile you tried to suppress. His voice was so close it warmed you from head to toe. “I’m just saying,” you replied, forcing your tone to stay neutral, “maybe you’re overthinking it. Sometimes the best things are right in front of you.”

His lips quirked, his expression softening as if he’d caught onto something unsaid. “You think so?” Bucky asked, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

You dared to turn your head and glance at him, and the way his blue eyes locked onto yours stole whatever breath you had left. “Yeah,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I know so.”

The moment stretched between you, fragile and heavy with unspoken words. You swore he was leaning closer, his gaze flickering briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. And suddenly, the question burning in your chest felt inevitable.

“Bucky…” you began, voice trembling slightly, unsure of what you were about to say—or what he might say back.

“Yeah, doll?” Bucky’s voice was gentle, a thread of warmth in the charged air between you.

You hesitated, but the weight of your emotions was too much to carry any longer. “Is this a date?” you finally blurted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

For a moment, his expression didn’t change, and then he shook his head slowly. “It’s not,” he said, his voice steady but quiet.

Your chest tightened, and the disappointment hit hard, like a blow you hadn’t braced for. You tried to mask it, but your face betrayed you, your shoulders sagging under the weight of the rejection. The ache in your heart grew with every second of silence that followed, the room feeling colder with each passing beat.

What you missed was the storm raging behind his steel-blue eyes—the internal battle he fought against his demons, the ones that screamed he wasn’t good enough for you. Wasn’t good enough for anyone. He’d carried those ghosts for too long to ignore them now. But he wasn’t blind.

He’d noticed the way your smile softened when it was meant for him, brighter and warmer than it ever was for anyone else. He’d seen how you fretted over him after missions, your hands fluttering with concern even at the smallest scratch on his skin. And he’d felt the hope radiating from you tonight when you’d invited him over, your words laced with a vulnerability you rarely showed.

Bucky knew. He’d known for a while. And that knowledge both terrified and thrilled him. Love, in any form, was fragile—he’d learned that the hard way. But tonight, sitting here with you, he realized he couldn’t keep running from the possibility of it.

He wanted you. Your laughter, your kindness, your stubbornness, your touch. He craved all of it. And maybe he didn’t deserve it, but for once in his long life, he wanted to try.

Bucky set his beer down, his movements deliberate, and leaned closer. His flesh hand brushed against the back of your arm and the touch sent a shiver up your arm. 

“It’s not a date,” he repeated, voice low but filled with a quiet resolve that made your breath catch, hurt twisting at your heart.

Your brow furrowed, the downturn of your lips impossible to hide. “Heard you the first time…”

“This isn’t a date,” he pressed on. Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he added, “But it could be.”

Your heart skipped, his words hanging in the air like a lifeline. “Bucky…”

Cutting through your hesitation, his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, steady. “If you want this… if you want me, I’m yours. I want to try.”

The vulnerability in his voice left you breathless, stealing any coherent thought you might have had. For the first time in what felt like forever, hope blossomed in your chest, warm and radiant. You didn’t hesitate this time, your lips curving into a soft, trembling smile.

“Is this because you’re afraid of the apps?” you teased, the quip breaking the intensity just enough for you to breathe. But your voice wavered slightly, and your eyes glistened with the tears threatening to spill. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll steal your virtue?”

Bucky chuckled, low and genuine, the sound sending warmth curling in your chest. “I’m not a damsel in distress, doll,” he said, his tone playful as his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face. The simple touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into it instinctively.

“And you’re also not the big bad wolf you think you are,” you countered softly, your voice tinged with both affection and defiance.

“Well, technically…” His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “I am the White Wolf.”

You rolled your eyes, the tension breaking into something lighter, something safe. “He jokes,” you said, shaking your head. “He could be kissing instead…”

His grin softened, and for a beat, he just looked at you, his hand still lingering near your face. Then, as if your words had given him permission, he leaned in, closing the space between you in a way that felt both inevitable and extraordinary.

“Guess I’ll take your advice for once, doll,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your lips.

The moment his lips touched yours, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. His kiss was gentle at first, a question rather than an assumption, as though he wanted to be sure this was what you truly wanted. His warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your cheekbone, while his vibranium hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding him in the moment.

You sighed into the kiss, your hand instinctively reaching up to thread through the short hair at the nape of his neck. The movement drew him closer, and he obliged, deepening the kiss with a soft groan that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours in a way that spoke of patience and restrained hunger, like he was savoring every second of this moment.

His vibranium hand finally moved, finding your waist with surprising tenderness. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the heat of his other hand through the fabric of your shirt, but it pulled you to the reality of him—both the man he was and the one he’d fought so hard to become.

When you parted briefly for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths mingling with yours in the small space between you. His eyes fluttered open, heavy-lidded and brimming with emotions he didn’t have to say out loud.

“Doll…” he whispered, his voice rough and full of awe, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

But you weren’t done. You weren’t ready to let the moment slip away. Sliding your hand from his neck to his jaw, you tilted his face back toward yours, brushing your lips against his again, slower this time, savoring the taste of him. He responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as his mouth moved against yours with more certainty, more passion.

The kiss deepened, growing warmer, more insistent. Your bodies angled closer together, his presence consuming your senses. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, and the faint rasp of his stubble as it brushed against your skin only made the experience more intoxicating.

You weren’t sure how it happened—one moment you were pressed against the back of your couch, his hands and lips demanding your full attention, and the next, you were straddling his thighs. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your harsh breaths mingled, the taste of his tongue intoxicating and impossible to resist.

For all his claims of being a man out of his time, Bucky Barnes knew exactly how to touch a woman. His hands were a perfect dichotomy: one warm and strong, the other cool and unyielding, but both equally firm and commanding. His touch left no room for doubt or hesitation, responding to every unspoken plea you hadn’t yet found the words for.

And his kiss? God, his kiss. You could write sonnets about the way his lips moved against yours, the way his tongue teased and claimed you, coaxing a need from you that you hadn’t known you were capable of. None of your wildest fantasies could compare to the reality of him, his body pressed against yours, solid and capable. The things it could do—what it was doing, what it promised to do—set your whole body alight with yearning.

You kissed him harder, deeper, needier, your hips moving instinctively against his. His groan rumbled low in his chest, a sound that only made you crave him more. But just as your movements grew more desperate, his vibranium hand clamped firmly on your hips, halting your rhythm. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, gentle but insistent, forcing you to break the kiss.

“Doll…” His voice was rough, laced with a warning that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You blinked at him, still dazed, heat crawling under your skin as you realized what you’d done. “Yes, I’m sorry, I know—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

His breaths came heavy, his chest rising and falling against yours as his steel-blue eyes bore into yours. The hunger there mirrored your own, and the restraint in his grip only made you want him more.

Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, your own need warring with the desire to break the tension. “Seems like I really am trying to steal your virtue, huh?” you joked, your voice light but shaky as you turned your head to press a soft kiss to his palm.

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through the hunger. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, his hand slipping from your jaw to trail gently along your cheek, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips.

Your free hand wrapped around his vibranium one, your thumb tracing the grooves of the metal. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with promise as you leaned in, resting your forehead against his.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the charged silence stretching as his hands anchored you, holding you steady but never pushing. His restraint was palpable, and you knew without a doubt—if you wanted more, he would give it to you willingly. But only if you asked.

You wouldn’t, though. Not tonight.

Instead, you leaned in, brushing soft, sweet kisses against his lips, your movements unhurried and tender. Each kiss felt like a promise, an unspoken assurance that there was no rush, no need for anything more than this moment. It took superhuman strength—the kind he had—not to let it escalate.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling and your cheeks warm. His eyes searched yours, and the way he looked at you—like you were the most precious thing in the world—made your heart swell. His thumb grazed your cheek, his smile soft and genuine.

“How about that movie?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes betrayed a depth of emotion that made your breath catch.

You laughed, the sound breaking the last remnants of tension and filling the cozy space around you. “Alright, fine. Let’s find something to watch, then. Any preferences?”

“Anything but those baking shows Sam keeps trying to get me into,” he muttered, his lips quirking in faint exasperation.

A giggle bubbled out of you at the mental image of Sam dragging Bucky into a world of frosting, sprinkles, and delicate pastries. The idea was so absurd yet so perfectly Sam that you couldn’t help yourself. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips lingering just long enough to feel the faint rasp of stubble. “Deal. No baking shows.”

As the two of you settled back onto the couch, scrolling through movie options, the tension between you shifted again—this time, it was softer, lighter, wrapped in a warmth that felt safe and steady.

Bucky stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers absently brushing against your shoulder as you leaned into him, your body naturally seeking his. And for the first time in a long time, you noticed something different about him. The shadows that usually haunted his expression seemed to have lifted, replaced by something quieter, something calmer.

Here, with you, Bucky wasn’t the broken soldier or the ex-assassin haunted by his past. He was just… himself. And in that moment, you realized that’s all you’d ever wanted him to be.

[mandalhoerian]

Repost because tumblr's tags were broken yesterday and it ate my post up 😞 Spoilers and translation notes for Rafayel's intertidal zone & analysis because it kinda floored me, I was just as a blank page as he was throughout this. I had to watch it like 5 times to understand what the story was saying and dig into chinese and japanese versions of this to piece together what was really happening. It may be my idiot brain not getting it and maybe it was like the easiest thing to understand for you but. Yeah. I may be just dumb LMFAO AND!!!! There's also a theory of mine into how Rafayel is actually able to read mc's mind/wishes through their lemurian bond, so stay tuned for that I guess

EDIT: correcting some transcriptions of chinese characters and the translations. sorry about that! google couldn't transcribe it correctly. for clarity's sake i will also include original screenshots. please tell me if anything is wrong!

EDIT 2: Check out part 2 to this as well for stuff I missed!

EDIT 3: An Abysswalker connection I found

So Rafayel’s whole deal in this memory, I believe, is dependency. Like, too much intensity, too much need, too much fear -- about scaring her off, about what he sees himself possibly becoming in the future, overall just being too reliant on mc and getting scared by it.

Let's begin with this massive fear of being a taker, not just in the “I’m stealing someone’s fries” way, but in this existential, soul-deep kind of way where he’s terrified of turning everything he loves into something he exploits out of demand for his art. And yeah, it’s sad when you first hear him say it, but it’s also really interesting when you look at how this all ties into his relationship with MC and his inspiration source drying up because of her.

Before Rafayel became an artist, he looked at the world in this super pure, wholesome way. Sceneries and nature were just there, things to admire and feel awe over without needing to do anything about it. Like, imagine standing at the edge of a desert, looking at a sea that’s drying up. Sure, it’s tragic, but it’s also kind of beautiful in a raw, heartbreaking way. That’s how Rafayel saw things, he could appreciate them without feeling like he had to do anything.

But then Rafayel started creating, and suddenly, sceneries weren’t just sceneries anymore. They became inspiration. He wasn’t just admiring beauty, he was extracting something from it, its meaning, its pain, its soul, to turn into art for other people. And that made him feel all kinds of icky, because now he wasn’t just looking at the drying sea. He was taking from it. Just as he's using his people's pain in his art as well, that's also a thing.

Now let’s talk about MC. Rafayel loves her like he used to love those sceneries,,, in this pure, untainted way. There's a parallel here. But here’s the kicker, he’s not the same guy who can just admire something and leave it untouched anymore.

And suddenly, this is no longer only about losing inspiration for him.

This happens after he and MC get together, and it’s like all the pain and anguish that used to fuel his creativity just.. ... dries up. He can’t find that spark anymore because now his life is surrounded by love instead of suffering. In fact, his inspiration starts coming from her and it's starting to clash with how he makes art. In the phone call, he seeks her out and says he needs her so bad and she only needs to talk to help him out. This is the first wink wink nod nod of the story.

So what does Rafayel do? He goes on this big, dramatic trip to "find inspiration" (or at least his muse), but it’s not just about his art. He’s not just looking for inspiration, he’s trying to figure out how to be less dependent on her and becoming increasingly more restless over this. The temparature and physical discomfort is making things worse, he's anxiously overthinking, and imagine trying to fight this and the longest art block as of late off when all you want to do is indulge in this special person and be comforted like a lap cat all day every day.

He understands that if he lets himself indulge without restraint, one day his love for mc will turn into pure need. He’ll become more and more greedy, and he doesn’t want that and is afraid of being abandoned because of that growing neediness and dependency.

This is in relation to his art, because as @/dat-silvers-girl put in the comments, he's struggling with "the genuine fear of not being able to enjoy anything in life because all you're thinking about how to use it (as an artist)" . what if he starts doing this to her? to their love and relationship? take from her, and become someone who only takes in every area of life -- like someone who only exploits things by extracting what he feels about them to use it for his art. he's afraid of that, he doesn't like that and possibly doesn't like himself who does it. so why should she? she would leave him for sure, in his head, that's a solid reason to.

The first time around he brings up his anxiety about MC leaving him out of the inner realization of his dependency, the possibility of just what he can become, and fear of abandonment. she effortlessly soothes his worries. It's heavily implied they did it afterwards and after hearing "her life has already been consumed by him" he tweaked out a little bit and his "obsession" seeped through.

After it fades to black, he says ほら……僕もとっくに……君に侵食されてしまっているんだ…… which means "See... I've already been completely consumed by you too" in Japanese instead of the life being made a chaotic mess localization. While I think MC's line was jokey and lighthearted, I don't think this man is joking at all. Rafayel didn't say his life was consumed by her as well, he said HE was consumed. Ouh.

This took the edge off from him for a while but they hadn't gotten to the root of the problem yet, so he was back to square one after the memorial hall, because remember, he's trying to find inspiration as an act of making this dependency of his better. Pain and suffering are all around him here, which his inspiration feeds off of. The dried up ocean he could hear weakening, the skeleton of the whale, the burden of his people and homeland more prominent than before. And what does MC do? Tear through the perspective of pain and introduce a hopeful alternative, "Isn't it a surprise to see an ocean in the middle of the desert?"

This is a place that gave Rafayel the height of helplessness and suffering when he visited by himself before despite momentarily being hopeful after the locals told him such a place existed. But now, she was there to comfort him through his loneliness and pain, hug him, and give him hope yet again. He brings up how he wanted to come here with the most important person to him when he was still hopeful about it before consumed by the pain of it all, and that wish has been granted. That moment has to be so powerful for Rafayel. Literally light at the end of the tunnel.

It had me reeling that he just sat in the car after all that, staring at her for god knows how long until she woke up. He was probably overthinking again, but my interpretation that it was heavily emotional for him (it could have meant so little for MC but the world for him, she doesn't even know) and he wanted to be in that moment with her, just feel and look without restraint. Indulge a little. (I can just imagine him going just a little bit more, I'll go after she wakes up.) And like. His eyes are shining in the darkness is the description here. Perhaps he was feeling so much here. So much love. So much happiness. And he's about to go in for a kiss (heavy breathing and everything) after that, but holds himself back and actively has to pry himself away. He's feeling the neediness again.

That’s why he makes an effort to actively wean himself off and says he'll be okay on his own. What he says to her after MC is like "spoiling him" being all "hey you're sick maybe don't go? or let's go together?" (which is NOT helping Rafayel at all) is even more meaningful in Japanese and I didn't know why they left out this context, but the rearranged line would be "Do you want me to become a sea creature beached on the sand after the sea recedes, unable to breathe on my own ever again?"

Yeah. YEAH. This is about dependency. (He's saying don't coddle me I'll literally become that wolf tearing his shirt meme 😭)

So of course his stubbornness and anxiety force him to do things without MC and distance himself, he can do it. He’s determined to prove to himself that he can endure it on his own.

I also feel like part of the reason he insisted on going to the salon alone is that he’s still worried mc might come to dislike the version of him who's someone he's so sure she will leave, who isn't perfect and he hides behind the persona he's put up just for her. If he truly becomes addicted to her and shows her everything/his true self, and she ends up leaving him, it would completely break him. He's trying to be like "im so normal about her haha" but he's so not normal about her at all. He's literally obsessed I feel like, and perhaps this is him fighting it knowing it's not healthy.

and OOOH about why he ends up coming back from the salon all hot and bothered.

I have strong context that she flicked the bean in there after he left her high and dry in the car ("hot water washes away the stickiness from my body and his stifled breaths still echo in my ears, enveloping me along with the steam in the bathroom. The warmth from his fingertips lingers in the places where he touched me..." is the english. however, in chinese, it goes "熱水洗去身上的黏膩，壓抑的喘息迴盪在我耳畔，和浴室裡氤氳的水氣一起包裹著我." stating "the suppressed breathing" -- which doesn't have any possessive adjectives when I translated it on google and later explicitly asked chatgpt if it had any his/my adjectives involved, just to be sure. it said no but i'd like it if a real chinese speaking person could give their input on this !!! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME WITH CHATGPT

so um. if the context is in fact the case that he heard her masturbating to him, the intensity with which he attacked her would be normal, I think 😭

I have belief that MC unconsciously shatters his "training himself to be without her" determination through their bond. She just keeps thinking about him the entire time. about him reading her thoughts, though. we still don't know all about the lemurian bond they share. I’d say it grants him some sort of mind/heart reading ability or connects their minds together (when she was thinking about whether she should hug him, he answered “yes”).

At the salon, I imagine Rafayel was already thinking about her like crazy. Then he realized, or perhaps, "heard" she was still worrying about him and thinking of him (as much he thought about her) and decided to go back. Rafayel probably felt that suppressing himself was only making her more anxious and unsettled. She's thinking all about him, unconsciously calling to him to come to her, she didn't want to let him go at all, wanted to go with him, etc...

but even if it was his own decision and no mind reading was involved... uh. If you ask me. He did quite literally hear her after coming back. That's also something that might make him think she wants him as much as he wants her, which made his self-restraint utterly meaningless from the start.

Disregarding this theory of mine proven wrong until a Chinese speaker helps me out here, MC returned to Rafayel's room. A translation omission happened here from what I saw. There are no possessive adjectives in the Chinese text about the room she returns to, and the Japanese one states she returned to the guest room (doesn't specify which one. She was also able to enter Rafayel's room without needing to knock before.)

so uh. she went into rafayel's room y'all. the line "this is my room, you're the one who walked in here" MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE. (SO LIKE. NOT ONLY DID SHE GO INTO HIS ROOM, SHE FLICKED THE BEAN THERE AND HE POSSIBLY HEARD IT. SHE'S MORE OF A FREAK THAN HE IS, I UNDERSTAND WHY HE LET GO AFTER THAT LMFAO)

I don't put it past him to get worked up after he finds her in his room post-bath even without my theory lmfao (idk why they put her in a dress when she should be in a bathrobe or something 😭)

His conclusion at the end of this memory that "he finds inspiration in pain and the art of creation is a part of his life. mc made him realize love and art are so alike. even if they don't complete him but burn him instead he wants them (love and art) with every fiber of his being" and MC says she doesn't like that, rightfully so.

So like. There's SO MUCH to unpack in here.

When Rafayel says he finds inspiration in pain and that creation is a part of his life, he’s admitting something raw and essential about himself: pain isn’t just a byproduct of his art, it’s intrinsic to it. For Rafayel, pain and art are intertwined in a way that’s almost inseparable. It’s like his muse isn’t just beauty, but beauty that hurts.

But then he takes this further by connecting art to love. He’s realized that both art and love demand the same from him: vulnerability, passion, and sometimes suffering. They don’t necessarily complete him (he’s not romanticizing them as salvation), but they burn him, wear him down, consume him (coincidentally, this is something he said to MC in the JP dub of this memory, that she consumes him), but also give him life. And for Rafayel, that’s the crux, even if they burn him, he wants them with every fiber of his being.

This is such a Rafayel thing to say. It’s dramatic, it’s tortured, but it’s also deeply SUBTLE. He doesn't spell all of these out, mind you, I got a headache trying to understand him. Or I'm just slow, I don't know. It shows how much he values creation and connection, even if they come at a cost.

MC, on the other hand, challenges this perspective. When she says she doesn’t like that he views love and art as things that burn him, she’s pushing back against the idea that suffering is a necessary part of creation, or love. MC doesn’t want Rafayel to see their relationship as something that requires him to hurt. She’s telling him, “You don’t have to destroy yourself to love me.”

When MC says, “You’ll never have to burn for me,” she’s giving Rafayel an alternative to his destructive mindset. She’s saying that love doesn’t have to hurt, that their relationship can exist without him sacrificing himself on the altar of passion. It’s a refusal to let Rafayel romanticize pain as the price of love.

And I love that Rafayel goes, "Will you help me look for other parts in life outside of pain?" in response. This is NOT about art or inspiration anymore, and the way the dialogue is written is just AUGH. Again I had to rewatch this over and over again for the nuances and subtext.

I love MC's response, she knew exactly what to say. “I’ll always be the one who walks along the shore with you. Of course, diving into the sea bed is fine too. If it can snow in the desert, there will be a day when the ocean returns.”

MC’s response is layered with metaphors, but at its core, it’s about unwavering support and hope::

Walking along the shore: This represents safety and companionship. MC is saying she’ll be with Rafayel in the calm, in the moments where they’re just observing life without diving into its depths. She’ll be his steady presence, his grounding force.

Diving into the sea bed: This is an acknowledgment that life and love sometimes require going deeper and they may go through hardships, into the unknown, the murky, the challenging. MC isn’t afraid of this, she’s willing to go there with him too.

Snow in the desert and the ocean’s return: This is a symbol of hope and transformation beyond being a nod to The Sea of Golden Sand. Snow in the desert seems impossible, just like the idea of Rafayel finding inspiration outside of pain might feel impossible to him. But MC believes in the extraordinary, in change, and in the possibility that beauty and creation can exist outside of suffering.

Her words are a promise: she’s willing to stand by him, to face the unknown together, and to hold onto the belief that a new way of seeing the world is possible.

And Rafayel LOWKEY PROPOSES IN RETURN.

By saying “let’s watch the sea together,” he’s accepting MC’s offer of companionship and hope in the long run. He’s recognizing that life doesn’t have to be about diving into the depths alone, it can be about sharing the experience with someone else, even if it’s just standing on the shore and watching.

“Every sea”: This phrase is key. Rafayel isn’t just committing to one kind of life or one kind of inspiration, he’s opening himself up to all possibilities. Watching every sea means embracing all facets of life, whether they’re calm or turbulent, painful or beautiful. It’s a marriage proposal declaration that he’s ready to explore the world beyond pain, with MC by his side.

So. I love that his inspiration returns after his freak is accepted by MC because he literally feels the acceptance through the bond.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. This memory DRAINED me. They were just supposed to bang what the fuck happened. Why did I have to go treasure hunting to find what was going on in this card. anyway...

[genderqueerdykes]

I promise this is just coming from someone who wants to learn, and I apologize if it sounds hateful or rude for what I'm about to ask that is not what I want at all,

but when it comes to systems, DID, plurality, from what I have heard, it is something extremely extremely rare, and something that most people under the age of 25 the body isn't even supposed to like "reveal" until older. I'm just confused and I would really like to hear from someone who actually is plural and not just from like Google

is being a system, DID, and plurality even the same? And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters (I ofc know not everyone who is plural isnt just fictive and it's all different)

just a very confused person who isn't plural and I would really like to learn and be educated !! I would really like to understand more and hate unreasonably for something I don't understand

hello there!

you can be plural without having DID. there's not really much else to it. DID is one form of plurality. it's not the end all be all of plurality. there are even other dissociative disorders like OSDD that get cast by the wayside when people adopt this kind of mentality. there's so much more to plurality than DID. also, there is no set age at which the symptoms at DID become apparent on the outside. i've been having dissociative symptoms since i was a kid. my alters were active and present even as a teenager!

relying on medical statistics alone for DID is a bad idea because most professionals who are capable of diagnosing someone with a mental health condition don't even know what dissociative disorders are or what they entail. my own therapist has known that I have DID the entire time i've known her, but she has told me that currently, she can't help me with it, because she has not received training for it. dissociative disorders are nowhere near as rare as we think they are, one has to consider that a number even as low as 1% - 2% of the global population is an absolutely massive number of people!

saying that DID is "extremely rare" in this case in order to discredit non dissociative plurals is an appeal to authority. it's appealing to the medical industry who refuses to take it seriously in the first place. the amount of professionals i've had who pointed out that i have dissociative disorders vs. the ones who never commented on it at all is pretty staggering. this is due to a lack of proper research due to lack of funding, not because DID is genuinely that rare. the reason there isn't more research into plurality in general is because of a lack of funding. medical studies and organizations require funding. if they don't see money in it, they won't do it.

DID is still a heavily stigmatized condition. things haven't gotten much better since it was renamed from Multiple Personality Disorder. people with dissociative disorders are still treated like shit in medical settings, so to me, it makes no sense at all whatsoever to pit dissociatives against other plurals because no one takes ANY of us seriously, it's not non-dissociative plurals' faults that we're not taken seriously. it's the medical industry. there are no medications to push for DID. DID does not respond to medication. this already makes a lot of doctors not want to interact with it at all, because there's no commissions for medications prescribed.

"And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters."

i'm pointing this out gently, i don't think you're a bad person, but this is sooooo mean, please don't be that mean and judgmental about other people, plural or not. please consider how those people would feel if they heard you talking about them like that. even if you don't view them as plural, you shouldn't think it's okay to discredit their lived experience. what are you getting out of phrasing it like that? even if that person turns out to not be plural, please do not judge other people based off of things like this. you don't live inside of their head. you don't know what's going on in there.

i'm not entirely sure why people think this way about introjects and fictives, but they're an extremely normal part of the plural experience! one of the most well known DID systems of all time, Truddi Chase and The Troops, had not only fictional alters (Elvira) but also factual ones as well (Mean Joe Green). this is not new, nor is it isolated to non dissociative plurals. introjects and fictives are extremely normal. it doesn't mean someone is faking just because they've introjected someone, or someones.

hope that helps, in general, please understand that the only lived experience that you are the arbiter of is your own and you cannot tell someone else what they're experiencing, no matter what. plurality will look different for every person, system and so on that experiences it! the sooner you accept that the easier your own life will become. it's not hurting you for someone to have headmates that you don't like. that's their business, not yours, and that's actually a very freeing thing!

great addition from the tags:

[artxstic-scr1bbles]

With all the ads I've seen of Link Click,,, and the music videos,,,,

I'm bound to believe that 'Link Click' as a whole is just a side gig that unexpectedly got a lot of money made. I mean— come on. Time Photo Studio is just a place to print photos, why would they get sponsored by brands like Oppo and uhh that one ad I saw of the face cream plus the gas stove? (Or pot, I don't remember). In which world do you think Lu Guang would be so engaged with social media when in the anime he is practically invisible online?? They stream too, furthermore giving me hope that everything is fine evidence to back this theory. When do companies sponsor people? Because people think- 'Oh my fav celebrity is promoting this I must buy it' and it works. It works man. They're POPULAR and they're CELEBRITIES.

Cheng Xiaoshi is trying his best to get money to pay off the rent lmao-

I've no idea how canon those ads are, but considering how Link Click is, it has to be SOMEWHAT canon, right????

Yes I'm talking about a potential** ACTOR AU.

Yes I've been thinking of this since Yingdu.

No I'm not okay.

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

~

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

~

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[doumadono]

Doumadono's 6k followers event

How more than 6,000 of you wonderful people enjoy this odd little corner of the internet is beyond me, but I’m so incredibly grateful! I’m absolutely floored by how my quirky little blog has grown over the past two years. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for following, liking, reblogging, and just being here! 🥺💖

To make this celebration extra special and funny, I need your help! I’ve come up with several ideas for the event, and I’ve decided to let you vote for your favorite. Based on the most votes, one or max two options (if I manage to find enough spare time) will be selected. You can find all the details about each option below the cut - read the descriptions and vote for your favorite! Don’t forget to reblog to help spread the word!

Feel free to send your prompts and ideas for the event through my inbox, DMs, or by commenting on this post. Please note that only prompts from the top two winning celebration ideas will be filled. However, I reserve the right to write additional pieces if a particular prompt inspires me!

The event will run from 13th January to 19th January, during which I’ll post works created specifically for this celebration. If needed, the event will have a separate masterlist, and all works will be tagged with #doumadono’s 6k celebration ♡

NOTE: this time, the event will be exclusively dedicated to My Hero Academia

Hero vs. Villain Alphabet Explore the fascinating contrasts between heroes and villains with this thematic alphabet series. Each letter represents a unique trait or scenario (e.g., A for Affection, B for Bravery), showcasing how heroes and villains approach the same concept in wildly different ways

NSFW Alphabet Ready for something sultry? Each letter of the alphabet will explore a smutty theme, tailored to the characters you love

Mission Gone Wrong What happens when things don’t go as planned? Whether it’s heroes on a botched rescue mission or villains navigating a difficult heist, this fics/drabbles will dive into thrilling, emotional, or even humorous scenarios

Villains’ Secret Files Ever wondered what your favorite villains are hiding? This event will uncover their secrets — fascinations, hidden fears, guilty pleasures, or even their most embarrassing moments. A mix of serious and lighthearted insights into the League of Villains and beyond ♡

Heroes’ Secret Files Heroes have secrets too! From their personal struggles to surprising traits they’d rather keep hidden, these scenarios offers a behind-the-scenes look at the pro heroes and students we all adore. Expect heartfelt, humorous, and inspiring revelations ♡

What If? Dive into little drabbles with scenarios where roles are reversed, quirks are swapped, or the world is entirely different. What if Dabi became a hero? What if Deku joined the League?

Blindfolded Requests (NSFW) You can submit completely blind prompts — just a single word or phrase. I'll choose the character and write a surprise drabble based on their vibe. Example requests could include words like tension, obsession, submission, etc.

Fairy Tales Reimagine classic fairy tales featuring My Hero Academia characters in exciting and heartwarming ways, f.e. Beauty and the Beast (with Shigaraki): a tale of finding humanity and vulnerability within someone feared.

[yuri-is-online]

The sheer untapped angst of Jamil in the fyuuture au is haunting me so it's your problem now /hj. I'm trying so hard to be normal right now ugh take my thoughts please they need to get out of my skull so that I can articulate to others how much the fate of Jamil in the first timeline just haunts me. It's like a weeping angel I can't take my eyes off of it and the moment I do it just kills me to fathom the possibilities.

But god imagine being Jamil and you have someone who for the first time is solely on your side, no other reason than that they chose you because they like you and want to stand by your side. I imagine Jamil must have had reservations about potentially dragging yuu into the job of servitude but like hell that was gonna stop them. And then he's happy because he has an actual life outside of Kalim, they've matured over the years and Jamil has more freedom from him than he ever had. He once couldn't fathom condemning a child to share his last name but he is going to be a father and he's so excited.

Then it's just gone. Yuu isn't next to him when he wakes up one morning and the front door of the house is still open. It's a surprise he didn't wake up from the smell of the food burning in the kitchen but he can't think straight because something is so clearly horribly wrong. All of their things are where they left them, their phone is still on the kitchen counter and they didn't take their keys. Neither of them were working in the months leading up to the birth of the child, a gift from Kalim he hadn't refused. He's panicking and in his panic he does something he never would have fathomed himself doing, he reaches out to Kalim for a help.

By the time he gets a response it kills him. He will never know what happened to his spouse or child, Kalim will never get his message, the next time Kalim sees Jamil after the latter's baby shower and paternity leave, will be when his corpse is being dragged along by the sorcerer of the sands. It will ironically be, the last thing he sees.

There is a lot of tragedy in this ayuu, but with Jamil specifically it verges into horror in a way I didn't fully appreciate when I drafted it.

Jamil is essentially a feudal vassal who wishes for the freedom to be a normal member of society. He also, and this is so important to his character even though it often gets overlooked, wants his family to be respected. His parents, his sister, his first memory is them kneeling to a different set of parents and that kills him inside.

For you to come from a world where his situation is somewhat of a foreign concept and still choose him, choose to throw your support behind him because he is worth reforming the world for- it is everything to him. He got his happy ending through hard work and he deserves it, so why is it being taken from him? Why is Kalim's mess of a family taking from him again?

I don't think Jamil ever realizes it has nothing to do with him; the idea that he was collateral damage isn't really something that computes with how his life has been up until that point. The behavior of his phantom certainly doesn't help anyone realize that either, the way it hunts down the Al Asims and controls the people of his home you would assume that was all the corpse that birthed it wanted. That it would have been better off for everyone if there had been no baby shower planned, no paternity leave, no child to begin with. But that's not true. It was never about Jamil, he was just there and it was convenient to blame him for it.

Something that child will realize he has been doing too when he's forced to see just how happy his father really was, once upon a dream.

[pankowcrumbs]

Hard Scene to Film X Rudy Pankow (requested)

The sound of waves crashing against the shore served as a constant backdrop on the Outer Banks set. The once lively chatter of the crew seemed subdued today, a reflection of the heavy scene we were about to film. My character, Tessa, was meeting her end, and the thought weighed on me more than I’d expected.

I took a deep breath, adjusting the edges of my costume as I sat on a weathered bench near the trailers. Rudy appeared from around the corner, his familiar grin replaced by a more serious expression. Seeing him like this was rare—his usual lighthearted energy had been replaced by something quieter, heavier.

“Hey,” he said softly, taking a seat beside me. “How are you holding up?”

“Good,” I lied, trying to muster a smile. “It’s just… weird, you know? Knowing this is Tessa’s last scene.”

He nodded, his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the zipper on his hoodie. “Yeah, I get that. Feels like saying goodbye to someone you’ve really gotten to know.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but rather filled with unspoken understanding. Finally, Rudy leaned back, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“You’re gonna kill it,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “I mean, not literally, since it’s a death scene, but you know what I mean.”

I laughed despite myself, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “Thanks, Rudy.”

“Always.” He turned to me then, his blue eyes searching mine. “And hey, just so you know, JJ’s reaction? That’s gonna be all me. Not JJ.”

My heart squeezed at his words. Rudy had a way of saying things that felt like both a confession and a reassurance, wrapped up in his usual charm.

“You’re gonna make me cry before we even start filming,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Good,” he said with a smirk. “Use it.”

The set had been transformed into a storm-ravaged shoreline, the sand littered with debris and the sky artificially darkened by massive tarps overhead. The sound crew tested the crash of distant thunder, and a light drizzle from the rain machines slicked the ground beneath our feet.

I lay on the damp sand, my costume stained with fake blood and dirt. The makeup team had gone all out, giving my skin a pale, almost lifeless hue. I closed my eyes, letting the weight of the scene settle over me as the director called for final checks.

“Quiet on set! Rolling in three, two…”

The clapperboard snapped, and the scene began.

I could hear the chaos around me, the shouts of characters calling for help, the sound of feet splashing through shallow water. And then, Rudy’s voice—JJ’s voice—pierced through the noise.

“Tessa!”

He stumbled into frame, his breath hitching as he saw me lying there. His knees hit the sand hard, and his hands hovered over me, trembling as if he didn’t know where to touch, afraid to hurt me further.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Tessa, come on. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

I let my head loll to the side, my half-lidded eyes meeting his. “JJ,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the storm.

His hand found mine, gripping it tightly. “Stay with me, okay? Just… stay with me.”

The script called for me to smile faintly, a bittersweet expression that hinted at acceptance. It was supposed to be a goodbye, but as I looked into Rudy’s eyes, filled with raw emotion, it felt like more. The lines between acting and reality blurred, and for a moment, it wasn’t JJ holding Tessa’s hand—it was Rudy holding mine.

“I… I tried,” I murmured, tears pooling in my eyes. “I tried to make it.”

“You did,” he said, his voice breaking. “You did, Tessa. You don’t get to give up now. You hear me? You don’t get to leave me.”

The director’s voice came faintly from the monitors. “Push it, Rudy. Let it break.”

Rudy’s face crumpled, and a sob tore from his throat. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his tears mixing with the rain.

“Please,” he whispered, the desperation in his voice cutting through the scene like a blade. “Please don’t go.”

I let my hand fall limp in his, my eyes fluttering closed. The storm raged on around us, but all I could hear was his broken breathing, the sound anchoring me even as I let the character slip away.

“And… cut!” the director called.

The set erupted into applause, but I couldn’t move. Rudy stayed frozen, his hand still gripping mine, his forehead still pressed against mine. Finally, he sat back, blinking rapidly as if trying to shake off the lingering emotions.

“That was… intense,” I said softly, my voice hoarse.

He looked at me then, his eyes red-rimmed but steady. “Yeah. It was.”

Later, after the makeup had been scrubbed off and the costumes returned to wardrobe, I found Rudy sitting on a folding chair near the edge of the set. He had his phone in one hand, scrolling absentmindedly, but his expression was far away.

“Hey,” I said, taking the chair next to him.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual.

We sat there for a moment, the silence between us comfortable but heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he turned to me, a small, sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry if I got too into it,” he said. “That… that scene just hit different.”

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t apologise. You made it real. That’s what makes you so damn good at this.”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you made it easy. You always do.”

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the night sky. The stars were starting to come out, their light faint but steady.

“You think they’ll keep it?” I asked, referring to the scene.

“They’d be idiots not to,” he said firmly. “That was magic.”

I glanced over at him, catching the way his gaze lingered on me, soft and unwavering. And in that moment, I realised something—Rudy wasn’t just talking about the scene.

Maybe, just maybe, he was talking about us.

[kurogane2512]

Was supposed to write this as a Christmas fic but here it is being a mix of Christmas and New Year~

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Various x fem!reader (Chief) (includes Chameleon, Cabernet, Eirene, Langley, Garofano, Sumire, Chelsea, Lady Pearl, Vautour Bleu and Bai Yi; basically open relationship with all)

Type: Fluff and implied smut (long fic)

The end of the year was a busy time for you with lots of reports and documentation to complete, even more so considering the staff had taken holidays for the last week to spend time with their families and loved ones. Unfortunately, as the Chief of MBCC, you didn't have such plans. After all, you didn't have a home or family to go back to. Your days were always spent in the Bureau, whether it be working days or not. You didn't mind it, you liked the place and it was important to be there for the Sinners.

Some Sinners also took permissions for outing this week, most likely for similar reasons as the staff. But a considerable amount was still at the bureau and it was your duty to ensure they enjoy the holidays too. With that in mind, you had already planned everything with Nightingale's help to organise a Christmas party. On the morning of Christmas, the Sinners woke up to find lights and holiday decorations all around the bureau and personalized invitations at their doors. By evening, everyone started gathering in the recreational area wearing Christmas themed outfits and eagerly waiting for the party to begin.

"Did she really plan all this? I'm impressed~"

"She's always so hard working for us..."

"I can't wait to see what's in store!"

They mumbled amongst themselves as they waited. Then, all of a sudden, the door burst open and someone dressed in red and white with a beard and a red bag came hopping in cheering 'Merry Christmas' and throwing candies from the bag. It didn't take long for everyone to figure out it was none other than their beloved Chief dressed as Santa Claus. The children appeared most excited and huddled around you to take more candies, but more surprises awaited them.

"Follow me, everyone!" You announced and led them to the courtyard and their eyes widened at the marvelous sight in front.

A giant Christmas tree decorated with all sorts of ornaments stood in the center, and a huge bunch of gifts were placed under it. More lights and decorations adorned the area along with artificial snow falling down to give the effect of real Christmas as much as possible. You wanted all of them to feel happy even if they were away from their loved ones. You soon began distributing gifts from the bunch to each of them. It was a long and hard process to think of unique gifts for all, but you hoped everyone would like your choice.

"Ah, I wanted this for so long! Thank you, Chief!" Owo said excitedly.

"Chief, how did you know I wanted this....?" Garofano commented with a smile.

"My, this is unexpected but pleasant nonetheless~" Chameleon remarked while smirking.

Many more Sinners remarked on the gifts and thanked you. You were truly glad to see everyone liked what they received.

"Merry Christmas everyone! Please help yourselves to the feast and I hope all of you have a good time!" You spoke after the gift distribution, showing the unraveled buffet you specially arranged for. It was no lavish feast, but it was more than heartwarming for them to see you do so much. Many of them didn't really think much of Christmas and didn't plan to celebrate- like Chameleon, who had bare minimum interest in the festival. But even she could appreciate this gesture. Hours quickly passed as everyone enjoyed themselves to the night and the day was over before you knew it.

You went back to your office once everything was finished and sat on the couch with a sigh while removing the hefty Santa Claus clothes. You laid down on the couch for a moment to rest, your eyes fixated on the ceiling as you pondered over the day and felt happy everything went well. You then got up and decided to complete some more paperwork and your eyes fell on a small box kept on your table with the label- 'Merry Christmas, Chief. Thank you for your hard work'. There was no undersign but you could tell it was from Nightingale, she had also taken a leave from today until 31st. You smiled to yourself and securely kept the contents of the box in an appropriate place then sat on your desk to work.

Some time passed and in another corner of the bureau was the arrival of a most unexpected guest. The limousine stopped in front of the bureau and the leader of the 9th Agency stepped out, her cane tapping on the floor first. She looked at the building in front of her with a smirk then flicked her hat before beginning to walk inside. She glanced at the decorations in the courtyard as she walked, smiling internally at the preparations you did. She finally reached your office door and opened it to reveal your body perched upon the desk, meticulously working as always. Langley half expected you to rest now, but she knew well that wouldn't be the case.

"Ahem, hard at work, rookie?~"

Langley's sudden voice beamed in your ears, causing you to stand up.

"L-Langley! What brings you here at this hour?"

Langley smiled and closed the door behind her as she walked in then stood in front of you. She took a look around the office and seemed disappointed at how empty and normal it looked.

"Checking up on my rookie. I see you didn't take a break even during Christmas."

"Ah, I did for some time. You know, there was the party...."

"Hm, I see."

"Oh, that reminds me! It's good you came here right now, wait a minute."

You asked her to stay while you proceeded to look in your cabinet and soon took out a wrapped box then came back to her side.

"This is for you. Merry Christmas, boss~"

Langley looked at the beautifully wrapped box and was taken aback for a moment, though her expression remained fairly unchanged.

"What is this?"

"Your Christmas gift. I had thought to give it to you whenever we'd meet and it's good that you came right now. I hope you'll like it...."

Langley accepted the box and stared at it for a moment then kept it on the desk. Her lips curled up in a smirk and before you knew it, she pulled you closer by grabbing your chest harness and pressed her lips to yours. Your eyes widened at the surprising sensation, but Langley only went deeper as she stepped closer and pinned you against the edge of the desk. Her lips ravaged yours with fervor, rolling her tongue with yours in a passionate kiss. Her hands pinned yours to the side, holding you by your wrists as she came closer and made you lie flat on the table while her knee lodged between your thighs.

"Mmm.... L-Langley....!~"

You moaned into the kiss, fueling Langley's desire further. She bit your lower lip and continued kissing you deeply until she was satisfied. You were breathless by the time she pulled away, panting intensely while she gazed at you and caressed your lips with her thumb. She smirked as she stepped away to let you stand up and fix yourself while she fixed her own clothes too then picked up her cane.

"You have my thanks, rookie. Rest up now."

"R-Right, I will, boss...."

Langley chuckled and was about to walk out when something came in her mind.

"I do wonder, did your beloved Sinners thank you in return for all your effort? I don't see any kind of gifts around."

"Ah, they don't need to. I wanted them to enjoy which I guess they did, seeing them happy is a good enough gift for me."

Langley stared at you then nodded before turning around to walk away.

"Seriously, rookie...." she muttered under her breath before glancing one last look at you as she exited.

The day of the celebration passed and everything was back to normal. Most Sinners who went out returned while some took an extended outing until New Year's Eve. It was still a festive atmosphere but for you there was no end to the paperwork, you just hoped to complete it all before next year....

Unbeknownst to you, a secret gathering of some Sinners was being conducted in a secluded area of the bureau by courtesy of Nightingale. You'd generally have eyes and ears everywhere, but on request of the boss of the 9th Agency, Nightingale prepared a room where they could meet in solace. Nobody was aware of the agenda of this supposed meeting, many couldn't even understand why Langley wanted to meet this way.

"I gather these are all the people who are interested, Adjutant?" Langley asked Nightingale who firmly nodded.

"There would be more but I refrained from inviting too many. They will be sufficient for now."

"Understood, then let's begin right away. I won't waste much time, the agenda of this meeting is simple. Your beloved Chief organized such a marvelous Christmas party, yet she received nothing in return from any of you."

Langley's sharp words triggered many of them, some furrowing their brows as if feeling accused of doing something wrong.

"Hmm? If this is about gratitude, then I had extended an invitation to her for my private Christmas gathering and she refused it herself." Eirene was the first to speak. It was surprising she came to this meeting considering she wasn't in the party, but she was always interested in things like this if it involved you.

"Oh? What a coincidence, so did I. It's a shame truly, she would have had so much fun at my party~" Chelsea countered, making Eirene glare at her for a moment before letting out a chuckle.

"Surely your little....party would be incomparable to my annual celebration. It's renowned in Eastside and Quinn only offers the best services~"

Chelsea also glared at her before smirking, "That's precisely why my sugar baby would like my place better. It'd be more personal and....intimate, she could have anything she wants and I would ensure the best reception for her~"

Eirene was about to retort when a giggle was heard from the other corner.

"Reception, you say? Then the Francs have most experience here. Our parties are as large as Quinn's but frivolous formalities are left at the door. It's no wonder Chief declined you both to come to mine~"

Cabernet quipped, her words making everyone stare at her in shock.

"What?! I don't believe my sugar baby would discriminate this way!" Chelsea gasped.

"Um, if I may interject...." a soft voice interrupted the commotion and they all turned their gazes towards the source.

"....Chief was at the party yesterday the entire time. I can confirm since I was part of it." it was Garofano who spoke.

"If my word matters then I can confirm as well~" Chameleon added.

Chelsea let out a sigh of relief while Eirene cleared her throat and Cabernet was giggling to herself, enjoying riling them up.

"Just a moment, you say she was at the party the whole time? Did she not take the day off for her own personal matters?"

Another person spoke and this time it was Lady Pearl who had been silently listening so far.

"Yes, that appears to be the case. Adjutant Nightingale can explain better, perhaps?" Garofano replied.

Nightingale let out a sigh, "Chief lives here only; she has no home, family or associates of any kind. She put in lot of work for the party yesterday, planned it a long time ago and implemented it herself since I and most of the staff were also on leave yesterday."

Everyone went silent hearing the surprising truth. They all knew how much effort you spent to run the bureau but they weren't aware you had no personal life to speak of.

"Ah, finally I can continue? Thank you, Adjutant. Since everyone is up to date with the matter now, let me reiterate my point. I don't care what parties or gatherings you invited her to, in the end, she did not receive any gratitude in return. So, the stage is open for ideas. I don't care when it is and how it is as long as you all come to an answer she will like." Langley spoke.

The room was silent once again as everyone seemed to ponder then Chameleon spoke.

"Hmm, and why do you care so much about showing gratitude to her, Ms Langley?~"

Langley's brow twitched and she glared at Chameleon before someone added in.

"That's true. And who made you the boss here?! You weren't even at the party yourself!" Bai Yi was the one to speak this time while leisurely leaning against the wall.

"Would you like to take charge then, Ms Bai Yi?~" Langley replied with a fake smile.

"Ooh, now we are talking! Alright, listen up everyone! We are going to organize the best party for Chief!" Bai Yi announced with a cheer, but nobody cheered with her in agreement and she quiety stepped back.

Langley rolled her eyes at the annoying interferences, she was regretting to organize this meeting.

"A-Ahem, back to the topic. Would anyone like to suggest ideas? It doesn't have to be a party, our motive is to thank Chief for all she has done. I suggest we do something on the 31st and make it a New Year's present for her." Nightingale said.

"Good idea, Adjutant. I agree about making it a New Year's gift." Langley complimented.

"Well then, perhaps we should name the things she likes and choose according to that." Chameleon said.

Everyone nodded and started pondering what things you liked- be it hobbies, entertainment, food, music etc. However, after pondering for a good while, nobody could come up with concrete options. It's not that they didn't think of anything, but more like they didn't know what you liked personally.

"Uh, what does Chief even like? She seems to do anything and everything that catches her eye around the bureau...." Sumire broke the silence with her doubt.

"Hmm, I have seen her often talk with Pepper and Mentor about the plants here but it doesn't seem she grows any out of personal interest." Garofano added.

"She enjoys the plays the children perform, but always denies getting involved herself whenever I suggest her to take up the stage." Lady Pearl continued.

"She is a good food critc and always eats with me when I invite her, but in the end she enjoys simple meals most." Cabernet said.

"I suggested her to read some new books once and she read them all in a month then added them to the library, but I rarely see her pick out new books otherwise." Eirene added.

"Hmmm....something she enjoys.... Ah, all I can think about is the way her face contorts in pleasure when we—" Bai Yi spoke dreamily, until being stopped by everyone.

"Ahem, Ms Bai Yi, while I agree with you, now is not the time for that." Eirene scolded, making Bai Yi pout.

"Hmph, she certainly has a knack for getting kidnapped as well~" Langley teased, making everyone chuckle.

"She is also a terrible undercover agent if she easily fawns over her target next door~" Vautour Bleu commented.

Light chuckles resounded in the room as everyone tried to recall the things you like and enjoy, but nobody could settle on what to do for gratitude since everything they recounted only seemed to show your dedication towards them.

"I....suppose she's fond of taking care of us...." Sumire spoke in a melancholic tone.

"It's her job. Although, she does seem too focused on work all the time...." Garofano said in agreement.

"Hah, so you are saying we don't know anything she personally likes to do? Her hobbies or interests, anything?" Chelsea said in an annoyed tone.

"Adjutant, you must be knowing her better than us. Do you have any input?" Langley probed Nightingale who looked down with a dejected expression.

"No, I don't know any better either. If she's not assissting any of the Sinners then she's cooped up in her office buried in paperwork. I always try to ease her burdens so she could take a break but the work seems never ending...."

"Does she.... not have a life without us? What was she like before she became the Chief here?" Sumire asked.

Her question intrigued everyone, it was true they didn't know how you were outside of your job and before it. Langley sensed the growing curiosity and knew she had to divert the topic, disclosing such sensitive information about you would have dire consequences.

"That hardly matters, we are getting off-topic once again. If none of you can think anything then I suggest having a party and arranging personal gifts for her, it seems to be the safest option and she will get to have a break too."

Langley's proposal was fair but nobody responded immediately as they were still thinking to do something else.

"It is quite simple, I don't see what this fuss is about." Chamelon said all of a sudden, and everyone looked at her with confused faces.

"Care to explain, Chameleon?" Langley said.

"Hah.... If all we can think about is her dedication towards us then doesn't that mean we are the ones she loves most?~"

Eyes widened at Chameleon's statement as if a sudden switch was triggered in everyone's mind.

"But, isn't that—" Garofano said but was cut off.

"What's the harm in that? Don't tell me you all find yourselves to be of so little value for her?~" Chameleon said.

More silence followed Chameleon's words until Garofano spoke up with a smile.

"I adore the way she smiles when I make new clothes for her. She always tries them on so happily and thanks me, she looks so happy wearing them...."

Sumire was next to say, "She is my most treasured person. She participates in tea ceremonies and flower arrangements with me, she does it with diligence and looks forward to next time...."

Eirene added now, "She is my true partner. She never denies playing chess with me even though she always loses, and she always schedules a next match...."

"Her palate is much simpler than mine, she hardly knows most of the dishes I offer to her but she always tries everything and thanks me for introducing her to new flavors. Not to mention, she never fails to satisfy my hunger for her...." Cabernet said with a sigh.

Chameleon chuckled, "Since the day she agreed to be my toy, she has never failed to keep up with me. I look forward to the late night talks with her...."

Everyone eventually revealed their most cherished moments with you since they were the time they had seen you be the happiest around them.

"How romantic, seems a wedding ceremony may as well be the best gift for her~" Langley teased, "But, this has given me an idea now."

~*~

It was the last day of the year now. You didn't even realize how time passed so quickly and another year was coming to a close. You were thrust into this role 2 years ago with no memories or knowledge of yourself and the world, but here you were still thriving somehow. You had completed all major paperwork and were only left with minor issues which you planned to slowly complete throughout the day, today you wanted to feel relaxed. With a cup of coffee in your hand, you came to the cafeteria to grab a bite and noticed it was emptier than usual.

Most Sinners would generally be here at this hour for breakfast. You noticed how many of the older ones were absent, save for a few. You didn't pay much heed to this and headed back to your office with the coffee and sandwich in hand. More hours passed in the blink of an eye as you worked on your desk with unbroken resolve as you were determined to keep your evening free. You wanted to organize a New Year's party but had already used most budget for the Christmas party, still you planned to order some good food for everyone.

Strange enough, nobody came to your office the entire time for any matter, nor did any situation come up among the Sinners. It felt as if you were the only one in the building, if not for Nightingale's regular check-ins. You remembered some of them had taken outing permission for today as well, but the silence was still daunting. It was late evening when you finally completed your work and decided to head to your room to rest for a while.

As you approached the door, you noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor and crouched to pick it up. It was a simple card with the following words written- 'For Chief, come to us <3'

The wording made you think someone was playing a prank, but the familiar scent coming from the paper made you curious. You stood up and opened the door and were met with the sight of a red heart shaped balloon and a similar kind of paper attached to its string, which read- 'Thank you for always taking care of us'

You couldn't understand what was happening. You looked around and saw another similar balloon at the end of the lobby and swiftly walked up to it. As expected, another paper was attached to it which read- 'Thank you for your hard work'

This was followed by another balloon a few steps away with the paper reading- 'You are the light in my grim world'. This messaged seemed more personal, and you had some idea who it could be from but weren't fully sure.

The next card read- 'You are my most treasured gem.' Another personal card and this one seemed more obvious.

You blindly kept following the trail of balloons and were desperately searching for the next one which was slightly farther but not out of sight. You held the card which read- 'You are the most delicious delicacy in this world I will patiently wait for.' This could only be from a certain red-haired woman....

The next card in your hand read- 'Thank you for giving us, me, a place to call home'. Another ambiguous message, but something felt familiar about it.

You didn't realize when you reached the last balloon and were also standing in front of your own room now. You looked around in awe as you snapped out of your trance, wondering who did this but the hall was empty. The last balloon was attached to the door knob with a simple message pasted- 'We are waiting for you ;)'

You contemplated for a moment about what to do. Everything was quite suspicious and you had a few suspects in mind but weren't sure what the motive was here. You had an idea of what awaited you beyond this door. Would it really be the right choice to go in? You could simply ignore everything and walk away, but deep down you were eager to know the finish line of this chase.

You took a deep breath and turned the knob to open the door and were met with complete darkness. You stepped inside and the door automatically shut itself and you knew it was futile to try to go out. You remembered the framework of your room hence cautiously walked forward until you felt your foot step on something like a button and in an instant, bright lights covered your view followed by sounds of something popping and cheers of 'Surprise!'

As your eyes adjusted, you finally realized what was happening. There stood all of your Sinners- well, some of them- with a cake in front and party poppers on the floor. The room was decorated with simple ornaments that gave a positive and cheerful vibe, and the cake was labeled- 'Thank you'

"What.... what is all this?" those were the words that first left your mouth. The SInners in front had similar reactions, some smiled while a few chuckled at your dumbfounded expression.

"It is our gratitude for you, Chief. You did so much for us on Christmas, and every day before it, while we didn't give you anything in return. We wanted to show our appreciation for you as well." Sumire answered your question with the most sincere and honest reply.

"We are sorry we didn't give you anything in return on Christmas even though you did so much for us. Please forgive us and accept this as your belated Christmas present." Garofano continued and both of them pushed the table with the cake closer to you.

You were rendered speechless and motionless for a moment, not knowing how to respond. You looked at all the women gathered around who were smiling and waiting for you to cut the cake. You didn't know they had such thoughts and almost felt guilty for making them think you found them ungrateful.

"I... I-I don't know what to say. Um.... you all didn't have to do this. I don't feel any of you are ungrateful and I don't mind not receiving anything in return. I just wanted you all to feel happy on a festive day like that, the greatest gift for me is seeing you all being happy...."

The words barely came out of you as you stuttered out of embarrassment. All of them felt their hearts skip a beat hearing them, it was beyond their understanding how you could make them feel this way.

"Save your humility for later, Chief. It wouldn't hurt to receive thanks once in a while, would it?~" Chameleon spoke amidst the silence and walked up to you. She stood in front and lighted the candle on the cake then stepped back.

"Indeed. You deserve this, rookie~" Langley's voice beamed from your left.

You felt overwhelmed at the gesture and struggled to react for a while then took a deep breath and picked up the knife. You blew the candle and everyone clapped as you cut the cake. You didn't expect to receive anything like this, but you would be lying if you said the feeling wasn't good.

"Whose idea was it to do this, by the way?" you asked and everyone fell silent once again until Langley spoke.

"That doesn't matter. It was a group effort in the end. Now then, let's move to the gifts."

It seemed as if she dodged the question but you didn't probe further as you were more surprised hearing about gifts.

"Wait, gifts? There's more to this surprise?"

"Why, of course. No celebration is complete without gifts, is it?~" Chelsea spoke.

You waited for them to give their gifts but you couldn't see any kind of boxes or packets around them. All of a sudden, they stepped closer to you at once and soon stood in a circle around you. Their eyes glimmered with mischief, lips curled up in smirks as they gazed at you.

"S-So, what are the gifts....?"

"About that, Chief..... We thought long and hard about the things you like— any accessories, electronics, food— anything. But in the end, we couldn't figure out any materialistic option that you'd like." Eirene said in a humming tone.

"But then, the best option finally dawned on us after meticulous discussion. Care to take a guess?~" Chelsea added.

"Uhhh, I'm not sure...."

"Hehe~ Oh, you are so adorable, Chief~" Chameleon commented.

"We realized the best gift for you is.... us~" Cabernet revealed, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"I-I don't think I follow...." you nervously spoke, subconsciously averting your gaze from them.

"We know, Chief. You care for us most. And we care for you as well, you are the most important person in our lives. That's why, we want to give ourselves to you. Our mind, body and soul— everything is yours." Garofano explained and stepped closer to hold your hand.

You were rendered speechless once again. The turn of events was most unexpected. While you already had sexual relationships with all of them as a form of stress relief and fulfillment, you didn't think they wanted something so serious with you.

"Take us, Chief. There is nobody else who deserves us the way you do, we cannot think to devote ourselves to anyone other than you." Sumire added and stepped in to hold your other hand.

"I...." you tried to form words but none came out.

You could see their expressions turning sour at your continued silence and realized you were making them upset. But before you could finally respond, someone jumped in and kissed you. Surprised gasps resounded around you at the perpetrator- who was none other than Bai Yi.

"Aah, all of you were wasting so much time that I couldn't wait! Stop thinking so much about it and just take us, Chief~" Bai Yi said with a wink and kissed you again.

Perhaps the electrifying kiss is exactly what you needed to come back to your senses. Once she pulled away, you were finally brave enough to accept what was happening and respond accordingly.

"I.... I'm very grateful for this. Truly, you all didn't need to do it but I am very happy. Thank you, all of you. As for your gifts.... a-ahem, how should I open them....?" you said with a blush and they smirked at your question.

You then felt a pair of arms wrap around your neck and were soon pulled to the side by Sumire who hurriedly kissed you. Garofano chuckled at her colleague's impatient action, but she knew deep down she was equally impatient. As soon as Sumire let you go, Garofano pulled you to her side by your collar and kissed you next, pressing her lips deeply with yours.

"Ah, how unruly of you three to steal kisses from her before us~" Vautour said while stepping closer.

You realized all of them had stepped closer to you and were squeezing you in the center, your face turned red at their close proximity.

"S-So, what are we going to d— mmph!~"

Your words were blocked by Chelsea who kissed you next, swiftly moving in and closing the gap.

"Don't forget you are still my sugar baby~" she whispered against your lips.

"If that's the case...." Chameleon said and pulled you out of Chelsea's hold. Her hand cupped your face before she moved close to ghost your lips, "....You are also my toy, I'm not going to stop our little games~". She then kissed you, pressing herself against you.

You were already feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed by the continuous kisses, but you knew more awaited. Cabernet was next to pull you towards her. She embraced you as if swallowing you, wrapping herself around you sensually while kissing you.

"Mmm, your taste is always addicting.... Let me have more, darling~"

"That will have to wait. Come here, my partner~" Eirene beckoned you with her finger. You had merely taken a few steps towards her when she suddenly embraced you before kissing you passionately.

"Just to be clear, the Quinn is still not included in this relationship. You have more ways to go before you can inherit it beside me~"

Your mind plunged in a daze. You didn't even drink any alcohol but felt dizzy as things continued, perhaps it was the feeling of being lovestruck. As soon as Eirene released you, you were pulled away once again but pinned to the wall this time with your wrists held out to the sides. The action and touch of the person was familiar, and you were indeed correct when the person came in front of you to occupy all your senses with her deep, hypnotizing presence.

"V-Vautour...." you merely whispered her name, a small smile growing on her lips.

"A very interesting place you brought me to.... I'm willing to rest my wings here and make it my nest~"

Vautour Bleu husked then drew close to kiss you. Her kiss was gentler and slower than others, but conveyed the same kind of feelings. She stepped away before you even realized the sensation was gone. A hand grabbed your wrist and you were pulled again, this time into a dance position. Lady Pearl was your partner, her right hand resting on your shoulder while her left joined your right.

"You never fail to surprise me.... Oh, this reverie is enchanting and I wish to dance with you till the world goes up in flames~"

She came close to kiss you too, a simple yet frenzied kiss that showed her desire for you. Just when you thought it was over, you remebered someone important was left.

"Enjoying the attention, rookie?~" Langley spoke from behind. You were about to turn around to face her but she didn't let you as she embraced you from the back, her right hand cupping your jaw.

"....You were the one who planned this, right?"

Langley didn't reply and you couldn't see her expression either. She simply turned your face towards herself and leaned down to kiss you.

"Some truths are better left unsaid, rookie~"

As you stood in Langley's secure hold, rest of the Sinners grouped around you again and were gazing at you with hooded eyes.

"S-So, what now....?" you nervously asked them, feeling unsure of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

"You should unravel your gifts now~" Cabernet spoke while guiding your hand towards her breast. Intense blush occupied your face at the soft sensation of her breast in your palm, feelings of arousal rising in you.

Another person guided your other hand towards themselves, making you grasp a piece of clothing covering their chest.

"Remove it, Chief. Your gift is waiting~" Bai Yi probed while holding out the string of her bra that was a simple tug away from being undone.

"This is going to take too much time if we go one by one~" Chameleon mused, her eyes glinting with lust and you knew she was thinking something mischievous.

"Well.... who says we need to go one by one?~" Vautour added, "I'm sure our beloved Chief would prefer to have all gifts at once~"

The suggestion was surprising but nobody denied it; they were all too eager to be with you, after all.

In the next few moments, shuffling of clothes filled the room as you undressed them. You pulled Bai Yi's bra string first and freed her breasts then slipped down Cabernet's gown and exposed half of her body before moving to Chameleon to unzip her skirt. They continued removing rest of their clothes while you moved to Eirene to open her dress, followed by stripping down Vautour and Pearl. Garofano had removed most of her clothes and only left the gown hanging for you to slip off, same with Sumire who was waiting for you to slide off her kimono. Last was Langley who patiently waited for her turn by removing her hat and tie, gesturing you to unbutton her shirt.

You watched in a daze as the naked bodies of the women around you came in view for you to feast on. You couldn't take your eyes off of them and felt arousal pool between your thighs already. Fantasies of flushed skin flooded your mind and left you senseless. You were numbed to the possibilities which sinfully awaited you, your body craved them but you were lost before hungry wolves, uncertain where to start. Cabernet's scarlet hair swept over the curve of her ass, and Vautour's pristine waist narrowed neatly into round hips.

You hid your eyes from the provoking sight but delighted in the sight of Pearl's smiling lips and noting the fullness of Chameleon's perfect breasts. There was nowhere to run, you were surrounded by unblemished soft skin and seductive gazes- each one all too eager to devour you whole. In the midst of such a marvelous scenery, you stood alone like a lone traveller, still clad in your uniform. By the time all of them were undressed, they were already focused on you.

"A-Ah, I will undress myself—!" you stuttered and started unbuttoning your shirt as fast as possible, but the women were faster and already had their hands on you.

"Leave it to us, Chief~" Sumire purred.

You felt all of them pull from different sides, making you anxious that the fabric would rip apart.

"Don't worry, Chief. I'll fix them later~" Garofano reassured.

As if using that as a signal, they applied for force and the sound of ripping rung in your ear as they actually tore away your shirt. Some of the buttons flew off as it was pulled from both sides then tossed away in the void. You couldn't help but feel shy and cover yourself as they gazed at your naked form, even though all of them had seen you this way plenty of times before.

"Ahh, Chief.... how delectable you look.... I can barely hold myself back anymore~" Cabernet moaned while sliding her hand down your neck, feeling up your skin. You were then shoved on the bed which was certainly not big enough for all of them, but perhaps they didn't care of the space at all. More hands caressed your pants and before you knew it, they were pulled off making you completely bare now. Cabernet was first to climb up and straddle you, her tongue lolling out as waiting to devour you.

"Now, wait a minute. What gives you the right to go first, Franc?" Eirene scolded and climbed up as well, straddling you beside Cabernet.

"Hmm, I don't need anyone's permission. Chief can't wait to have me, isn't that right, Chief?~"

Cabernet licked her lips and traced her thumb over yours.

"I don't recall her saying anything of that sort. She's my partner first, it's only right for me to start." Eirene countered.

"What makes you both think I'll give my sugar baby so easily? She only deserves to have me first." Chelsea added while climbing up and sitting on Cabernet's other side. The three of them surrounded you from the front completely, leaving no space at all except the back.

"Tsk tsk, if the three of you are so busy bickering, I suppose I'll have my share first~" Bai Yi spoke and swiftly moved behind you, wrapping her arms around your neck and kissing your shoulder.

You heard the bed creak as someone else climbed up and it was none other than Chameleon crawling to sit behind you as well. Her fingers grazed your nape and she leaned to nibble your left ear, making you softly gasp in return.

"Hehe, nobody knows her body the way I do. It's only appropriate for me to start first~"

"That's not necessarily the case. We have spent lot of time exploring each other's bodies, haven't we, honey?~" Lady Pearl cooed and squeezed in as well. You were surrounded by all sides now and there was no more space, but you couldn't ignore the other women who were looking at you in anticipating and waiting for their turn.

"L-Let's go one by one. I don't care who is first, I don't want any of you to feel unsatisfied...." you suggested.

Their eyes hooded with lust at your words, an unrestrained urge to devour you growing in them.

"Oh, Chief.... you are always so kind.... How do you expect us to hold in our desires if you say things like that?~" Garofano said in a singsong tone, her face flushed red.

"Indeed.... you make it so hard to satiate my hunger...." Cabernet moaned and finally drove forward to kiss your neck. Her action prompted others to also move in and kiss you on different parts- Eirene and Chelsea kissed along your chest, Chameleon and Bai Yi planted kisses on your face and ears, Lady Pearl tilted your head back and captured your lips while Vautour Bleu and Langley kissed along your arms. Garofano and Sumire wasted no time to kiss down your thighs, even making some bite marks on your flesh.

The sensations were overwhelming as you drowned in kisses and nips. Each of them felt as passionate and needy as the other, a sign of their desperation to mark you as theirs. Small moans and gasps left you lips at the various touches; Cabernet was licking up your neck like a starved puppy, Eirene and Chelsea played with your breasts while kissing over them, Bai Yi and Chameleon bit down and sucked on your upper back, Lady Pearl covered your face with kisses before biting on your nape, Vautour was sensually licking and sucking your finger while Langley trailed kisses up and down your hand.

"A-Ah.... wait.... I can't...." you moaned in pleasure, recoiling from all sides but being held back by Bai Yi, Chameleon and Lady Pearl behind you.

"Chief... you are so sweet... mmh~" Cabernet whispered against your skin.

"Just give yourselves to us~" Chameleon husked in your ear.

As the barrage of kisses and bites continued on your body, you suddenly heard the sound of fireworks going off outside. Everyone stopped for a moment to gaze upon the sparkling sight until looking back at you.

"Happy New Year, Chief~"

They said in unison, and you finally realized the extent of their surprise. Entering the new year like this wasn't bad, you thought....

Throughout the night, only the sweetest of moans and whimpers echoed in your ears, and only the most beautiful faces teeming in pleasure occupied your sight.

[cripplecharacters]

Debated on whether I wanted to resend but here goes nothing.

This is Margo, my OC. She is currently being developed into a Stardew Valley mod. I don't wish to spoil too much, but she fought in The War and was injured. She now has facial + body scarring and a cane. I'm still writing the story, but so far, she has two plots: A, which is her learning to open up and accept the player. And B, which is her trying to find a hobby with the help of other NPC characters.

I'm mainly sending an ask in for feedback on her design. As of now, her torn lip has been edited to show her gums instead of all teeth. Otherwise, nothing has changed. Thank you!

Side question: How should her facial difference and cane be addressed, if at all?

[Image description: two pixel drawings. The first one shows the full body of the character; she has light tan skin, a burn scar on her face, and long red hair. She's holding a cane. The second drawing shows multiple versions of the character's portrait with various facial expressions.]

Hey!

She looks good! I especially like the top right one, very cute :)

I think my only concern would be re: her right eye - is she meant to have corneal scarring or a traumatic cataract? I'm asking since it looks like she has corneal blindness, but that's rarely caused by an injury like that (it's mostly a vitamin deficiency/parasitic thing). It's not impossible that she'd have it from a burn, but I want to make sure you're not confusing the two (since I see that a lot) and these two conditions do have different symptoms (outside of blindness).

If you're willing to address her disability then I think it would be a good idea. I'm not sure what kind of narration you're going for, but it wouldn't be ableist for the player character to simply Acknowledge that she has burns on her face (e.g., before the player learns her actual name, the placeholder could be "red-haired woman with a burn" since these are just her most visible characteristics). It also wouldn't be out of place if the player character wondered "what happened" - I know we (disabled people) all hate this question, but I don't think it's weird for someone to just think that in their head when they see someone (thought crime isn't real, etc.). As long as the player character isn't going around harassing her asking why she's disabled as the first thing they do (unless I guess it'd be to show that the player is ableist and has a lot to learn?) it should be ok.

If you want the characters to discuss "what happened" in the actual dialogue, it'd be preferably after they actually develop a relationship. I don't think it's weird to ask one's friend about their disability (as opposed to demand that information). Depending on Margo's personality and/or feelings toward the player she could either explain the whole story in great detail, leave it at "during the War, a building caught on fire, I was in it; it took them three months to put me back together but at least I'm finally back home, isn't modern medicine incredible?", or simply decline to answer that. All three are valid options; it's not like her character arc will fall apart if the player doesn't know what happened. She's visibly a burn survivor, there's hardly any mystery as to what's going on. Not everyone wants to talk about the origin of their disability, even (sometimes especially) to people they're close to - sometimes it's PTSD, sometimes it's the fact that they're tired of being asked that.

Her cane is more straightforward since in her case, her main "thing to address" are her burns and the cane would probably fall under that for most players. If you want you can have the player character compliment the design of her cane* or how well built it is, especially earlier on when it would be more awkward to just go straight to discussing her actual disability.

*Real life (not writing) tip: Not everyone likes that, please don't randomly compliment real strangers' mobility aids, especially if they're undecorated or without anything else that would imply they want to bring attention to it. A lot of people (myself included) will think you're being condescending.

Other than that, there's no reason to ignore her burns or cane; e.g. if the player visits her at home before going out she can mention that she needs to grab her cane, or put a pressure sleeve on before leaving, maybe on some days she's not available to talk to because she has physical therapy scheduled at that time, etc. As long as she has other character traits that have nothing to do with her disability (which it sounds like she already does) it should all be good.

I also like the plot B she's involved in - I wish this wasn't the case, but so many characters with facial differences don't have any damn hobbies ("obsessing over revenge for making them disabled" doesn't count) and almost never seem to have casual friends, so this is cool to see!

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[kingqueensoobscene]

General headcanons for Blu!Scout x reader

Hello everyone!! I hope you had a happy new year!! I want to start a new series where I make headcanons for characters I haven’t written for yet to show you my interpretations of them. This is the first, please enjoy!

-I like to believe that unlike the Red Scout, he is much more experienced or gifted at killing. In the “Meet the Spy” video, which I know is Spy disguised as Scout, but Heavy bought it and he’s canonically a smart cookie, he says he has killed plenty of spies as if it was just like driving a car. And he is very cocky about it. When he has to clear a room, he doesn’t speak. His mind is focused for once; gauging the situation. You get whiplash from how quickly he can go from hyper focused to the annoying prick you know and love.

-He has saved your hide plenty of times. You’ve saved his too. Had a couple of enemy knives to your throat only for their heads to get blown off by Scout with his Babyface. 

“You alright, gorgeous?”  He would ask.

“Yeah,” he extended his hand down to you, “Thanks.” 

“On your feet, babe! Let’s go!” 

-He looks physically different from Scout in subtle ways. Their uniform is the same and they both wear dog tags, but Blu Scout has dirty blonde hair and green eyes. Blu started the hand wraps thing, which the Red Scout would copy because he thought it looked cool, because he would get his knuckles scraped as he has a habit of breaking his fall with his fist when sped across the field. The same long face as the Red Scout, just with bushier eyebrows. He also has freckles (I totally stole that from Lil Pootis). He also has a resting passive aggressive face, he looks unamused.

-He is diagnosed with OCD and experiences intrusive thoughts. It’s funny because he is good at staying calm in situations, but will think about them later on. But he likes to keep his worries to himself. He worries that something really bad will happen to you or himself one day; such as the respawn machine stops working and he won’t see you or Ma ever again. You have had to help him through a panic attack a few times, but he hates when you find him like that. He tries to get you out the door and lock himself in. He smokes to help his anxiety, but obviously, it makes his heart beat faster, making him worse and only helps temporarily. He will try and hide it from you, but you can taste it on his breath when you kiss. 

-He does not leave you without a kiss on the cheek or the lips. He’s more than fine with PDA too and he always holds your hand or if someone else needs you to get out of the way and he notices, he gently moves you by the waist. He gets cocky about it to the other mercenaries. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know you guys are jealous. I got the finest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on and they chose me! Suck it!” 

Literally no one is paying attention.

-He takes note of everyone he has to work with. Though he can read and spell better than Red, he’s not great at writing, can’t get all of his ideas organized, so he draws what he notices about the others. For example, Spy keeps a picture of a young boy in his disguise kit and so, Scout drew Spy looking at the picture in the open kit in his left hand while the right dragged a smoke. They are amazing sketches that he never finishes. He only colors in hair or darker materials. He has so many sketches of you that he keeps in his desk drawer. If you compiled the amount of drawings he had of you, it would qualify as an anatomy and clothing study. 

-Wakes up super early. Can never sleep either due to his anxiety or his add. He will wake you up early whenever he does. Not usually when he is having an anxiety spell, he doesn’t like dragging you into that despite accidentally waking you up multiple times. He has a smoke, then makes you coffee, however you like, he will remember, wakes you up and makes sure you don’t fall back asleep. He will just keep pestering you until you stubbornly stay awake. He’s annoying and he knows it. If you don’t feel like talking, which is understandable since you’re up at 3:30, he will chat about the team or his life back in Boston.

-He has a thing for sweet treats. He always likes to take you out to the bakery just outside of the base and get you two a milkshake and some cake slices. The first time you two went, it was about 2 months into your relationship. You have not gone out of the Builder’s League since you got there, so Scout took you! It was a small little dinner that was rimmed with cherry red and a neon blue “OPEN” sign. He held the door for you.

“M’baby.” 

You seated yourself and grabbed the menus from the end of the table. You looked at all of the options, mostly the pastries. 

“I’m gonna get a malt. Ya want one, dollface?” 

“Sure, thank you!” You smiled.

The counter was a light pink, lined with a checkered, black-and-white belt wrapped around it. When he came back, he had a slice of pie, your pastry and one milkshake.

“I thought you got me one too?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” he handed you a bendable straw, “here ya go!” 

He put his red striped straw in the whipped cream and took a sip. 

“We’re sharing?” You laughed, flabbergasted.

“Isn’t that what couples do?” 

You chuckled. “You dork.”

[dearest-amber-daily]

Ahaha. Ahahaha... I screwed up-

So. How do I explain myself- Well- while on patrol, I found this glass container of this strange, green substance, deep in the woods. It had something written on its bottom. "Synthetic Energon", I believe? It's unlike anything I've seen before.

I took it back to headquarters since I wanted to study it more, and I was going to ask Jin if she wanted help with examining the liquid, and then... uuhhh.....

The aforementioned "synthetic energon" (or synth-en, if you will), is splattered onto the floor, the large vial fractured. It didn't seem like it fell from that great of a height, but it was enough to break it a bit. The medic's eyes seem to be different than usual, her eyes glowing green, akin to the green liquid behind her, rather than her usual pink eyes.

Jin- Jin please don't get mad at me. I know I'm not one to usually make mistakes like this, but it was an accident, and while I was too invested in this new discovery I wasn't looking at where I was going and... that happened.

I should also add... I may have consumed some of it, before it fell. Just thought that was worth mentioning. It was a dumb decision. I know. I was caught up in my curiosity at the time. But, I feel strangely energized after drinking it? Like, I feel a lot stronger? And pumped up, too. I don't know how or why, but that's just how I feel.

I'll get to cleaning it later, I just have... no idea what to do next....

@daily-rcp-poli @daily-jin-madebygenius @dailyrcproy @the-hellycopter-photographer

Transformers RP blogs highly encouraged to interact! <3 This is a Transformers reference after all, and as a huge fan of it, (esp TFP), I wanted to do something related to both of my main fandoms!

It'd be nice to help a non-cybertronian, with a cybertronian problem. Speaking of that, Amber could use help from a fellow medic... (perhaps Ratchet? he's dealt with this before. or Knockout. Or literally TF blog in general, i'm desperate for TF roleplays lmao)

MORE INFO UNDER CUT! (if you don't know what synth-en is, or who amber is)

Synthetic Energon (nicknamed Synth-En) is a manufactured version of Energon, the fuel/lifeblood of Transformers. But unlike normal Energon, it is entirely artificial. It's very effective, and when used on machinery, it's proven to work very well. The catch is, it just works a little too well when used on sentient machinery.

When used on a Cybertronian (or in this case, a robovan), it brings them into a significantly more powerful state. However, it has the side-effect of affecting the user's mental stability, with heightening their agression and arrogance. The user may choose to make some... impulsive decisions, too.

Synthetic energon made its debut in Transformers: Prime, in season 1, episode 22. The medical bot, Ratchet, gets into contact with it and proceeds to get high on steroids.

When I realised Ratchet and Amber were in fandoms I were highly invested in, were both about transforming robots, AND WERE BOTH MEDICS, I decided it was the perfect idea to put Amber in Ratchet's position.

Amber is from the cartoon Robocar Poli, a show about a rescue team of transforming vehicles who save their town from various accidents. A medical expert who's kind, friendly and intelligent. Also, terrifying when mad.

I love Amber. I love Amber so much it hurts me. Same with Ratchet. I have a thing for medical robot characters...

She's a manmade transforming vehicle (implied. i don't think we've gotten solid confirmation or had someone say that the robocars are manmade but oh well we all collectively agree that they're manmade), sooo.. not cybertronian. With synthetic energon, and unrefined synth-en at that. This is totally going to go well.

RCP and TFP, while they have their similarities, they are drastically different. Transformers Prime is about robot warfare. Robocar Poli is a version of Rescue Bots from paralel universe (a reference to one post I saw). I love them both.

medics my beloved.

Anyway, now that you're done reading, GO WILD WITH THE ROLEPLAYS!!!! <33 i'd be so happy to see your rp responses >:D

- Mod Sharon

[fushiglow]

Here’s my AO3 wrapped for 2024!

This time last year, I was really proud of what I'd achieved with my writing in 2023. Little did I know that I was about to blow myself out of the water in 2024!

I've never been this productive for a fandom in all my life; it's actually wild what my brain has come out with in the last 12 months, even through all the ups and downs the year brought with it. Though the ending to 2024 was particularly hard, I won't let anyone take that away from me.

Glo, you did amazing actually ✨

Words written: Over 200k words published in 2024 and many more sitting in my secret WIP pile!

Works published: Twenty three published works for Jujutsu Kaisen, 21 of which are complete. Help.

Work I'm most proud of: Over the Threshold, even more than last year. My love for this work is infinite and blue.

Work that readers enjoyed most: This time last year, Over the Threshold didn't have many readers yet, but I think it's safe to say that this is now a reader favourite too. After that, however, it's probably Mailman AU or Office AU — hard to judge which since they were cross-platform, but while I think the strength of love was stronger for the former, the latter probably wins in sheer numbers.

Fastest work to write: Thunder. I've said it before, but this fell out of my brain onto the page in a single morning.

Slowest work to write: It took me three months to write chapter 12 and it wasn't even that long, so unfortunately it's Over the Threshold. Progress on this fic has slowed significantly towards the latter half of the year and it frustrates me, but I won't rush this work!

Number of WIPs I'm taking into 2024: God, I've literally lost count at this point, but I know we're over the 40 mark. I have too many documents open. Someone rein me in please.

Favourite character to write: Last year I said Gojō, but writing Getō in chapters 11 and 12 was very difficult and all the more rewarding because of it. Honourable mention to Megumi in In His Shadow and Balance, because I adored writing from his POV in those fics.

Favourite line/passage I wrote this year: Chapter 11 specifically is my magnum opus. For now, at least. If I'm honest, I think every single chapter is brilliant from here on out. Wish me luck!

It was an A minor chord on a rainy afternoon. A chromatic flourish, tumbling over black and white at the top of the piano. A second suspended like magic in the air, waiting for resolution to the third. But also, thunder booming and bellowing its way across the city. The day’s first birdsong, before the heavens found their forgotten yellows. The hiss of the Pacific Ocean kissing Suguru’s feet, stretching out into infinity before him. Blue was the autumn wind’s mournful howl ushering in the death of the year. The hopeful chime of icicles fracturing in winter’s thaw. The pensive pitter-patter of a spring shower on Suguru’s umbrella. The summer chorus crying its jubilant love song to cloudless skies. Most of all, it was Satoru and his blue, blue eyes.

Once again, thank you to everyone who supported my work in 2024, whether in my comment section, in the replies and reblogs here on Tumblr, or even in our private DMs. It's all the motivation I need to continue when I'm feeling unwanted in this fandom; I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the love you've shown for my writing over the last 12 months.

I'm going to make a post about my writing process soon, so if you have any specific questions you'd like me to answer, leave them in the replies! For now, here's to many more wonderful words in 2025!

P.S. This exercise is for my own record keeping, so I just used a collaged together template I made last year. Feel free to use it for your own AO3 wrapped if you like!

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[lotus-pear]

bsd fic authors i understand yalls pain SO well right now why is it so fucking HARD to write dazai. like i have a whole fucking spreadsheet dedicated to tireless analysis i have done on my part so i can accurately characterize him but he is such an unpredictable and morally gray character that it's hard knowing his limits and boundaries and where he draws the line for himself.

[a-n-i-m-a-t-i-o-n]

Good-looking profile

And this thing his mouth does????

Weird but hot

Also, big laugh =)

His tongue sticking out is so cute 🥰